


Five and One Times, Heartbreak style

by kat_fanfic



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxiety, David's Past, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Past Abuse (mental), Post-Episode: s05e02 Love Letters, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek), five and one times, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/kat_fanfic
Summary: Five times David’s past relationships are literal (though not really literal, thank god) shitshows, and the one time everything makes sense.
Relationships: David Rose/Other(s) (referenced), Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 10
Kudos: 206





	Five and One Times, Heartbreak style

1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1

This wasn’t how Patrick had thought he’d spend his Saturday night. He’d just wanted to cook for David, feed him real food for once and top it off with that double chocolate, marshmallow, caramel ice-cream sundae abomination the other man loved so much, and then maybe, just maybe, there’d be some necking on the sofa where he’d hoping to lick all of that lingering sweetness out of David’s mouth. 

But instead of eating the chicken parm he’d spent the better half of a day making, here he was, deep into a discussion with his newly-minted boyfriend (because no, this wasn’t a fight, he refused to fight about something like this), about the fact that someone, someone that wasn’t him, had tagged David in a relationship status update on Facebook.

“’It’s complicated’,” he read, scowling. “Damn right, it is.” He looked over to where David was studiously _not_ looking at him. “Care to tell me what’s going on here?”

“Nothing?”

Oh, yeah, there was definitely _something_ going on. Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Who’s,” he glanced at the screen in front of him, “Tommy DeLacourte then? Someone I should know?”

David sighed, shook his head. He was picking at the hem of his sweater; a nervous habit Patrick had come to associate with the emotional bloodletting of learning David’s dating history. “He’s an ex, of sorts. No-one important, especially…” He cleared his throat, glanced at Patrick, then looked down again. “Especially now.”

“An ex, of sorts,” Patrick repeated slowly. He tried not to get the implication of David’s words get to him ( _especially now_ he’d said, because they were dating and that was important and yes!), staying on-topic. “Care to elaborate?”

David grimaced. “Not an ex, really. Fuck-buddy, more like. A repeated OST, y’know, an itch-scratcher? Alexis called him eye-candy once, but I am of the firm opinion that if there even is such a thing – beauty lying in the eye of the beholder and all that - it’d objectively very definitely be me getting the title in that particular pairing.”

“I,” Patrick’s hand was over his mouth, and he wasn’t even sure himself of that was to stop himself from saying something very inappropriate to the situation, or to keep from kissing David senseless. 

David was eyeing him from the side. “We had an on-again, off-again thing going on for a long time. Looks like he wants to be,” he waved a delicate hand. “Uh, on. Again.”

Patrick felt a headache coming on. “And him changing his relationship status…?”

“Was his way of letting me know that he was ready to, uh, resume our, uh, thing.”

Charming. Before he could comment, though, David was already prattling on. “But it’s not like I was going to take him up on the offer – even if there wasn’t a you in the picture – not after what happened last time.” Nonchalance really wasn’t David’s thing, not when blushes so easily stained his cheeks.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Patrick murmured, grinning as the blush intensified. “And what was it that was so unforgivable then? Did he wear white shoes after Labor Day?”

David huffed out a soft breath of pure disgust. “Worse. He took me on a cruise to the Caribbean, and then up and bolted in the middle of the night when Bieber confirmed his Mardis Gras invitation last minute. He left me there, all by myself.”

“He bolted.” Patrick repeated, unsure if he’d heard that right. “From a cruise ship. In the middle of the night.”

David nodded, eyes wide in his indignation. “Uh-huh, yeah. He took my helicopter, too – my _private_ helicopter. I had it named and everything.” He waited for Patrick to properly acknowledge that fact. 

Patrick molded his face into something he hoped conveyed the proper mix of awe and sympathy.

David’s eyes narrowed. “Anyway,” he said slowly. “Tommy took the _David Chopperfield_ and stranded me and Silvana right there in the middle of the ocean, without even a second thought. So, it’s been a definite off since then, relationship-wise, obviously, because you just don’t leave somebody at sea like that.”

“Right.” Patrick had been working hard on his ability to keep a straight face and it was coming in handy now. “You were on a cruise ship, though.”

“Yes, uh-huh,” David’s voice got higher, more pointed. “A _cruise ship_ , Patrick. Which is basically a swimming death trap. I read that there are more germs on the railing of a cruise ship then on a public toilet.”

“Yeah, okay. And who was Silvana again?” he asked, as nonchalant as he possibly could.

David gave him a _look_. “My pilot, Patrick. Silvana was my pilot. For the helicopter? Do keep up, please.”

Patrick nodded, making what he hoped looked like a chagrined face. “Of course, sorry for being so slow on the uptake.” He ducked away from David’s light-hearted swat. “So, this Tommy guy. He’s a dick then? Not someone you need to keep in contact with at all.”

David’s _look_ was even more pointed this time. “I don’t know, are you going to continue being difficult about it if I did?”

That hit deeper than was probably intended. Patrick swallowed back a whole slew of hurt-fueled responses. “I’m not being difficult,” he finally settled on. “I just don’t appreciate some dude barging in on your socials like they own them. I know you think it’s not a big deal, but it’s your _relationship status_ , David. I don’t feel like it’s unreasonable to not want that to show up on your page when it’s actually you and me that are, uh, hanging out.”

David’s lips twitched. “Hanging out? Really?”

Patrick flushed. “Dating, whatever, you know what I mean.” He couldn’t believe that they were even having this discussion.

Sticking a fork in his tomato and basil salad, David looked very much like he was pouting. “You don’t even have a Facebook account, though.”

“I know,” Patrick retorted, heated. “But that’s so not the point.”

“I just don’t like being pressured about things like that.”

The words were small and quiet, two things that were so anathema to David’s usual larger-than-life personality that they stopped Patrick in his tracks. “I’m not-” he started, paused mid-sentence, and then got up to kneel down next to David’s chair. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, okay? I just, I get jealous sometimes, and things like this, they bother me.”

The look on David’s face wasn’t quite disbelief, but so close to it that Patrick almost wanted to reiterate. He so often forgot how insecure David could be in matters of the heart. Instead of embarrassing him with mushy talk, though, he pressed a quick kiss on David’s ring-adorned hand. “We good?”

David nodded, dark eyes watching him with something akin to wonder. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Great.” David got up, throwing another glance at the laptop screen. He frowned. “Really, though,” he murmured then. “All this hubbub for a jerk that did nothing but play yo-yo with your feelings?”

“It’s not like I was in love with him or anything,” David retorted, delicately stabbing a single cherry tomato. 

Knowing David, he probably had been. 

“Besides, you are aware that that’s cultural appropriation, right? You’re not allowed to use the word hubbub without some serious changes happening in the downstairs department first.”

“Hm,” Patrick grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “What I do know is that you have a vested interest in my downstairs department staying exactly as it is, so it looks like you’ll just have to forgive me then.” He kissed David’s flushed face then, and they never talked about Facebook relationship statuses again. 

2 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 2

Patrick hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Especially not when, just the day before, he’d directed a fine rant about boundaries and the right to privacy in a relationship toward his snooping boyfriend - which now made him feel like a hypocrite. Not enough to pull back, however, because this was a prime opportunity, and, for all his bluster? David could be remarkably tight-lipped about his life before coming to Schitt’s Creek. 

He was only trying to be a good partner, so it totally wasn’t Patrick’s fault that he had to piece things together from random snatches of conversation he picked up every now and then.

“You owe me one,” Alexis was saying and judging from David’s exasperated huff, he strongly disagreed. 

“I very much do not,” he said, and Patrick could tell that he had crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Aspen,” was all Alexis had to say. 

“Oh, hell no,” David gasped. “Nuh-uh, you will _not_ bring that up, Alexis, no way.”

“I had to cut my skiing trip short to come get you, David.”

“Uh-huh,” David replied, sounding unimpressed. “You don’t even ski, though.” 

Patrick frowned. That hadn’t been David’s you’re-being-stupid-Alexis voice. That had been his I’m-uncomfortable-with-the-turn-this-conversation-has-taken-so-I’m-going-on-the-offensive-to-redirect-it tone.

“It’s called après-ski _party_ for a reason, David.”

“I was always the one to drop everything to get you out of trouble, though, so don’t you dare throw the one time in my face where it was the other way around.” David huffed. “So, forgive me if I don’t consider leaving Lady Ga-Ga’s Winter Wonderbash for two hours to be a real sacrifice when I once had to bribe a Somalian pirate with 115 million senti to give me the location of the underground bunker he’d put you in.” 

“Ugh,” Alexis said, and Patrick could practically hear how she’d scrunched up her face in indignation.  
“I didn’t even need you to do that, the chloroform had almost completely worn off even before you got there.”

Patrick shook his head, not sure if he’d heard right.

“And did you have a plan to get out of the ankle chains, too? Because I clearly remember lugging a very heavy pair of pliers through three miles of jungle to get you free.”

“At least you didn’t have to try to find a convenience store that sells couture at eleven o’clock on New Year’s Eve, just because your brother tries to surprise his squeeze-of-the-week with unannounced naked times, and forgets that said squeeze is notorious for squeezing all sorts of other squeezes and ends up naked at a bus stop with only his almost-out-of-battery phone and an annoyed-looking raccoon for company.” 

She’d run a bit out of steam towards the end, but still it took Patrick a moment to untangle what she’d said. Holy shit, he thought, his heart twinging in his chest like it always did when confronted with the shitty parts of David’s past.

There was a significant pause. 

“I wasn’t naked,” David said then. He sounded subdued.

“A raincoat and leather slippers don’t exactly count as dressed, though, David.”

“So, what’s it gonna take for you to never bring this up again?” David asked, real desperation coloring his long-suffering tone and Patrick had slipped away before Alexis answered. 

He felt so bad for overhearing things David obviously wasn’t ready to share with him that he overcompensated and bought him three dozen roses, only to realize that he’d overcompensated and try to get rid of half of them. But then David had found the squashed roses in the trash and got immediately suspicious, because “why would you want to get rid of those, Patrick, unless it’s to hide something” and in the end of the ensuing argument, Patrick blurted out what he’d overheard. “I’m _so_ sorry,” he said after a long moment of stunned silence on both their parts. “I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it sort of happened, and I _know_ it’s a total invasion of your privacy-“

“It’s alright.”

Patrick stopped short. 

David smiled that half-smile that used to drive Patrick crazy, back when he hadn’t been allowed yet to kiss it into submission. “Just, tell me next time instead of murdering half the county’s rose pickings, yeah?”

He did kiss that smile into submission then, and even if some of the rose displays at the store looked a little worse for wear, they certainly didn’t make both of them smile any less.

3 + 3 + 3 + 3 + 3 + 3

Ever since he’d met David Rose, Patrick found that a deep well of patience had taken residence in his chest, one that never seemed to run dry. It was being severely tested right at this moment, though. Scraping the barrel, so to speak. “David,” he said, slowly. “I did not, and I repeat, I did _not_ take your wallet.”

David’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t say you did.”

Sighing, Patrick, hit print on the shipping label he’d been filling in. They had overstocked on hemp gum again and, despite David’s protestations, he’d arranged for some of the boxes to be returned to their supplier. “David,” he said finally, snatching the printable sticker from the out tray. “You just said, in exactly those words, _oh no, my wallet is gone, but nobody has been here except you and me all day_ and then you side-eyed me as if I’d turned into some sort of bond villain when you weren’t looking.”

David huffed. “You’re not pretty enough to be a bond villain.”

“David.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” David threw his hands up. “It’s just that my wallet was here earlier when I went to get more maple lollipops for the Canada Day display, and then it was gone when I got back and what am I supposed to think about that?”

Patrick very deliberately didn’t let any of the hurt show. “You could think, _hm, maybe I didn’t leave my wallet where I thought I did_ instead of instantly jumping to the conclusion that I must be stealing from you.” He picked up a box of _Schitt’s Teak_ keychains and began hanging them on their little stand, making sure they were facing the right way.

David made a small sound of dismay.

Patrick waited.

There was the clinking sound of keys falling against each other and then David sighed and shifted closer to him. “You knew it was under the box, didn’t you? Together with my keys?”

Patrick shrugged. 

David reached around him to stop his hands from fiddling with the keychains. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly, his warmth soaking through Patrick’s thin shirt. “I do know better, I really do. You’re decent, and kind, and you wouldn’t ever do anything like this and it’s just me again, okay? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have some, uh, hang-ups.”

Unable to help it, Patrick chuckled and turned in David’s arms. His inability to stay mad at David would probably bite him in the ass one of these days, but it was sort of hilarious how someone as smart as David could be so clueless about matters of the heart. “I might have become aware of a few such hanging ups,” he murmured, still grinning.

David pecked him on the lips and then he pulled back a bit so that they could actually meet each other’s eyes. “Did I ever tell you about the first time my Dad confiscated my credit cards?” 

Patrick paused. “What’s that got to do with anything?” 

David pulled a face. “I’m getting there, just, bear with me, okay?”

“Sure.” Patrick relaxed against in his boyfriend’s embrace, peering at him out of half-closed eyes. The store was open, but he wasn’t overly worried about any customer’s coming in, not at eleven to eight on a Wednesday morning. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, yeah, so.” David took a deep breath. “So he’d taken my credit cards, right? But not really because of something I’d done.” He hesitated, looking a bit like he was afraid of his own courage. “I mean, it was a little bit, but not _really_ , you know?”

Patrick snorted softly and pulled David closer until he had the other man cuddled against him, dark hair resting against his collarbone. “Stop worrying about saying the wrong thing, yeah? Just tell me the story, David.”

David looked at him for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Well, see,” he said, voice soft. “I had this three-way partnership going on back then, with a banker and his bored wife, and it was really fun for a while, but what I didn’t realize at first was that the fancy hotels we were staying at and all the room service we got and everything? They’d used my credit cards for them. So, I’d inadvertently racked up quite the bill, and when my Dad got the statements, he got really mad.”

That surprised Patrick. He’d only ever known the strapped-for-cash Johnny Rose, but judging from the man’s demeanor, he’d never thought him to be someone who was stingy with his kids. After all, he’d bought his son a town. As a _joke_. 

“It wasn’t actually about the money,” David explained then, as if he’d read his mind. “He was mad that I had let myself be taken advantage of, that I’d let them use me like that. And the reason why he got so mad that time was because it hadn’t by far been the first time it happened to me.”

A dark suspicion rose in Patrick. “People had stolen from you before?” he asked carefully.

David’s cheeks turned a dark, blotchy red. “ _Lovers_ have stolen from me before. So yeah, it’s hard for me not to jump to conclusions sometimes, but the last thing I want is hurt you, or push you away, and if -“

“Hey, hey, no”, Patrick interjected. “I mean, yes, I may be hurt sometimes by things like this, especially when I don’t understating where you’re coming from. But as long as you’re willing to let me in, to explain things, then we’re gonna be okay. Okay?”

David sighed, nodded, and then he kissed him, soft and sweet, with lots of feeling, just the way Patrick liked best. 

4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 

“David?” Patrick tried to keep his voice even. From experience he knew that his boyfriend didn’t react well to direct confrontation, so he’d learned to be somewhat circumspect with his criticism.

Granted, he hadn’t been very successful at that earlier. He’d been amused by Stevie and David’s crestfallen expressions as he’d chewed them out for basically just giving their stuff away during the robbery, but he certainly didn’t feel very amused now. 

He tried to catch his boyfriend’s eyes, but David was staring fixedly at a display of Mrs. Woodworth’s Cuticle Cure. He was still pale enough to worry Patrick. Frowning, he scrubbed a hand over his face. Maybe he’d been a bit harsh earlier. Afterall, he hadn’t been there to witness the situation, couldn’t really, honestly say how he’d have reacted under the same circumstances. “Hey,” he murmured, stepping close and hip-checking David gently. “You okay?”

David took a deep breath, then nodded. “Sure, yeah. Just annoyed, I guess.”

“With me?” Patrick asked. He wouldn’t be surprised if the answer was yes. 

“With me,” David said. “I was such an idiot about the whole thing. I’m just not good in crisis situations…”

Patrick shook his head. “That’s very much not true,” he insisted, remembering all the times David had kept it together for him. “Look, I know I said some things after the robbery that probably gave you the idea that I didn’t approve of the way you and Stevie handled things, but in all honesty?” He took David’s hands in his own, holding them tight. “I’m so very glad that you did everything in your power to keep the situation from escalating. You kept your cool, and you kept yourself and Stevie safe and that’s all I care about.”

David sniffed and Patrick’s throat grew tight in sympathy. “It’s not like we were in any real danger, though, and it bothers me that I lost my nerve like that. I was held at gunpoint before, for goodness sakes, and didn’t shit bricks as bad as I did today…” He trailed off then, meeting Patrick’s horrified gaze with a sheepish one of his own. He very obviously hadn’t meant to let that slip.

Feeling a little like he was in freefall, Patrick scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus, David. Please tell me that ‘being held at gunpoint’ is a euphemism for some weird sex thing.”

David’s hands did that weird fluttering thing that either meant he was indignant or feeling very vulnerable. “Yeah, no. Sorry,” he murmured, eyes as hooded as they ever got. 

Patrick’s heart clenched. “Hey,” he said, pulling David towards him, gathering him in. “Don’t. Shit. Don’t apologize to me.” In moments like this it didn’t matter that David was a good two inches taller than him. Somehow, he managed to make himself small enough to be pulled in and held, curled into Patrick’s body. 

“D’you want to talk about it?” Patrick kept his voice low, gentle. He didn’t want to pry but didn’t want David to think that he couldn’t talk about things like this with him either. Just because it upset him didn’t mean that he wanted to be kept unawares.

David shrugged, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Patrick’s throat. “Not much to tell. My, uh, bedpartner at the time just kind of forgot to tell me that he’d stolen something important from some very pissed off people. But it honestly was just bad luck that they caught up with him while we were together.”

Patrick pulled back. So many questions whirled through his mind, but what came out of his mind was: “What did he steal?”

David pulled a face. Some color had returned to his face, but he was still a little too pale for Patrick’s liking. “A Fabergé egg,” he murmured.

Of all the things Patrick had expected, this hadn’t even made the list. “Huh,” he said. 

“It had a bejeweled Geisha on it,” David added, as if that explained everything.

Patrick had to clear his throat. “How delightfully inappropriate.” 

David shrugged. “Yes, well, Ryonosuke seemed to be quite fond of it, so.”

Patrick swallowed hard. “I read an article once,” he began, eyes never leaving David’s face. “About a Fabergé egg that had been stolen from a Japanese businessman.”

David looked at his chest, picking lint off his shirt. “Oh?”

“Uh-huh. Only, that businessman was Yakuza, and the official story was that the egg had been brought back only two days later.” 

“It didn’t really _bother_ me, you know? But what happened today, that did bother me. Very much so.”

Patrick nodded, biting back any inclination to interpret David’s words beyond what he was trying to say. “So, why do you think that is?” he asked softly.

David looked thoughtful and also a little bis nervous and it looked adorable on him. “Maybe,” he started, stopped, then started again. “Maybe I’ve got more to lose now. More than I had back then?”

Warmth bloomed in Patrick’s chest. “Yeah, you do,” he said, and then he pulled David close and made him forget all about robberies and stolen bejeweled eggs.

5 + 5 + 5 + 5 + 5 + 5

It was Patrick’s idea to bring a radio to the store. The thing was pretty old, dinged up and worn, but “it’s shabby chic, Patrick” and apparently, it fit in perfectly with David’s vision of what _Rose Apothecary_ should be. 

They’d had it on for the better part of a day, sometimes singing along to the songs being played, sometimes rolling their eyes at them, but having fun either way, so Patrick was surprised to say the least when David suddenly lunged towards the little box, almost making it fly in his haste to shut it off.

“Um,” Patrick said, gesturing towards where David had the radio clutched to his chest, breathing hard. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alexis said as she closed the door behind her. She was smirking. “That was Blue Truth’s new song coming on just now and David hates them.”

“I don’t hate them,” David muttered, but he wasn’t relinquishing his hold on the radio either.

Something in his memory sparked. “Didn’t you use to date their lead singer?”

David made a muffled sound that wasn’t quite a denial. 

“He did,” Alexis added helpfully. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “There were rumors that he broke off with his boyfriend right before a concert, basically onstage.”

Alexis nodded, grinning. 

Patrick looked between the siblings. “But that did not actually happen, right? I read the Buzzfeed article about it all being a scam to promote their new album.”

Alexis made an affronted little sound. “Shush, Patrick. It did so happen.“ She had a speculative look in her eyes that made Patrick nervous. “It’s even on YouTube, if you’re interested to see it. One of the roadies filmed the whole thing.”

David gasped, staring at Alexis as if she’d snakes growing from her head. “You told me you deleted that!”

Alexis had the grace to look a bit shame faced. “It’s one of my most-watched videos, David, and I needed the buzz to promote _A little bit Alexis_.”

David huffed and glared at his sister, but it was mostly pretend. By now, Patrick was an expert in reading David’s various you-fucked-up looks, and this one was fairly mild.

Still, it didn’t sit right with him that there was a video of David getting hurt out there for everyone to see. He shook his head and stepped between them. “No, I don’t want to watch some jerk be a dick to my boyfriend, thanks very much, Alexis, and I’d like very much for you to take the video down now.” 

She opened her mouth to protest, but then she actually met his eyes and deflated. “Ugh,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Stop looking at me like that, Brewer. All that earnestness, it’s disgusting.” She shuddered and pulled a face, and Patrick knew that he’d won. 

“Thanks, Silly,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes at him. The nickname had been a spontaneous thing, a play on her being his sister in law and the fact that she was the silliest person he knew. Well, aside from her brother. 

Grinning, he leaned in and up, catching David’s pout with his own lips, pulling a soft sigh from his boyfriend as the kiss deepened.

“Yuck,” Alexis said, and Patrick pulled David in until they were pressed together head to toe. He wasn’t usually a big fan of displays like this, but he knew that Alexis could be a little pukey about their, what she called “saccharine relationship”, and she definitely deserved a little bit of a takedown for not realizing how much the video bothered her brother. 

“Ugh, you two are the _worst_!” She stomped away, muttering about needing to get a cavity check.

David laughed into their kiss, which yeah, was definitely one of Patrick’s favorite romantic moves. “Can I use you anytime I want to win a fight with my sister, or was that a one-time thing?” he murmured, smirking at him, and Patrick swatted him lightly. 

Jesus. He was in love with an idiot, with a family full of idiots, and if he was quite honest with himself, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6

Patrick stared down at the table, sighing as he listened to David laugh and flirt with one of their regulars. He didn’t have many of these days anymore, days where he couldn’t quite believe that someone like David would choose someone like him, but sometimes one snuck up at him. 

They were to be married soon. David had accepted his rings and had let him choose the wedding cake, and _still_ Patrick found himself breathless with anxiety at times, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop, for the moment when David would realize how much better he could have it, how much more life had to offer him than a simple store in a backwater town and being married to a lame accountant who was the opposite of glamorous, and who couldn’t even order _tablecloth_ right for fuck’s sake -

“Hey,” he heard, and then David was there, cradling him in his arms, making shushing noises that were adorable in their helplessness.

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” Patrick gasped, pulling back, and it was only then that he noticed how hard he was breathing and how hot it had suddenly become in the store. It wasn’t by far the first anxiety attack Patrick had ever had, and it wasn’t the first he’d had in front of David either, but it sure had been a while since he’d been this bad, this quick. 

David had let him retreat and made no further attempt to touch him. “Do you need to take a walk?” he asked, low-voiced and gentle, eyes dark with concern. He was ready to let him go, yo deal with this however he needed to, and Patrick was so very grateful to have this man in his life. 

Oh god, he’d never survive losing him. 

His breath quickened again, but this time, the soothing scent of lavender filled his nose, pulling him back from the edge. Ever since he’d been a child, lavender had been the only thing that could soothe him when his heart beat this fast, but he had no memory of telling David that. 

Taking in deep pulls of air soaked with the rich lavender scent, he slowly began to calm down, the tightness in his chest receding until he was able to _breathe_ again.

“Can you tell me what brought this on?” David was staying close, but not too close, and he kept his voice light and so very, very gentle. Gentle wasn’t something David did very often, but when he did, he was surprisingly good at it. 

“Just, thoughts,” Patrick said, pulling a face. He struggled with expressing something he didn’t really understand himself. His brain just veered sideways sometimes, and it was hard to put into words how wrong it made him feel, how ill-fitting in his own body. 

David nodded, hummed thoughtfully, and walked over to put the Closed sign on the door without commenting. Patrick blinked. He hadn’t even noticed that they were alone in the store, that sometime in between him losing his breath and the wonderful lavender miracle under his nose, David had managed to maneuver Mr. Wilkes out the door, despite the fact that the old man tended to spend his whole afternoon in the store when he came in. 

“You don’t have to-” Patrick started, but David hushed him from across the room.

“It’s almost closing time anyway,” he said, and the blatant lie made Patrick’s lips curve into a smile. 

“So, thoughts, huh,”, David said then, conversationally, as he pushed Patrick into the back and into a chair, kneeling down in front of him. On the ground. David was wearing his Gucci slacks, so that in itself was such a proof of love that Patrick almost felt shamed by it. 

Weird how his idea of romance had adapted since he’d met David. 

“Any specific ones?” David peered up at him, still not touching, but close enough that Patrick could feel his warmth. “Do they have to do with the store, or the wedding, or…” he paused a second, then badgered on, like the trooper he was. “Are they about me?

Patrick was shaking his head, even before the last word had been spoken. “No, David, fuck, no, it’s not you, it’s _so_ not you, I swear. I mean,” he heaved a sigh and shook his head helplessly, “it sort of is, but not in the way you think.”

David just continued to look at him. “Can you tell me then, how it’s about me, but _not_ about me? Because I really want to be there for you Patrick, and if that means giving you a little more space, or pushing the wedding back-“

“No! I swear it’s not that. I just don’t understand sometimes,” he pushed a hand through his hair, knowing that he probably was spiking it up and making himself look like a mad hedgehog, but he was beyond caring, “how you can be satisfied with this.” He made a vague gesture, encompassing himself, the store and the town beyond. 

David looked like he’d bitten into a lemon, and it took Patrick’s anxiety-addled brain a second to realize that the annoyance he could read off his fiancé wasn’t directed at him. “I’m an idiot,” he murmured, and something that sounded like “should have talked about this sooner” and then he took Patrick’s hands in his and pulled him down so that they were kneeling in front of each other.

It should have been silly, two grown men on their knees in a storage room, holding hands and staring into another’s eyes, but it was anything but. It was cozy and intimate and all kinds of soothing. 

“You know a lot about my history,” David said then. He sounded like he’d rather eat a well-done steak done have this conversation. 

Patrick made to stop him, but David shook his head. “No, it’s okay. You need to know this, and I kinda need to say it.” He sought his gaze and didn’t look away the whole time. “I have made many mistakes in my life, and a lot of them have to do with my love-life. Regrets are something I don’t particularly deal well with, so I try not to have them at all.”

Patrick smiled at that. That was such a _David_ thing to say. 

“One of my biggest regrets though, the one that haunts me, is that I let people treat me like crap in the past.”

There wasn’t much he could say to that, except to express wholehearted agreement.

“But, see, I didn’t really _know_ then how things could be. I didn’t know what I had waiting for me, and how my life would turn out, if I let someone decent hold my heart. I let the Tommy DeLacourte’s and the Eve’s of this world make me think that their kind was all I deserved, that I wasn’t meant to have someone in my life that would put me first. Well,” he said with a smile, “someone other than my family at least. You did that, Patrick. You’re the _one_ for me, and even if you weren’t the perfect mind-reader that you are and did it first, I’d so have proposed to you.”

Patrick swallowed. His throat was tight, but this time, it had nothing to do with anxiety. 

“So every time you have thoughts like the ones you had today, I want you to use this to chase them away.” Leaning over, David pulled something from out of a little box that Patrick hadn’t even noticed had been tucked away in a corner. It was a small triangle hanging off a long silver necklace and David pushed it into Patrick’s hand. 

“It’s a diffuser necklace.”

Patrick’s eyes were getting wet. “For the lavender?” he choked out.

“Yeah.” David looked hesitant now, as if suddenly unsure about his present.

Patrick blinked down at it, and then he surged forward and pulled David into his arms. “Thank you,” he murmured against his ear, pressing a kiss onto it for good measure. “I love it, and I love you, and I never wanted to make you doubt that.”

“I don’t,” David said, pulling back just enough so that their lips could meet in a soft, gentle kiss. “I never doubt anything when I’m with you.”

Patrick huffed, grinning at the corny words, even as he appreciated their sentiment. “Did Stevie make you read her romance novels again?” 

David made an affronted little noise and flicked his nose. “You take care, Patrick Brewer, or I’ll put chamomile in your diffuser thingie.”

Patrick gagged at the mere thought. “You wouldn’t dare.”

David grinned. “Well, if my disastrous past relationships have taught me anything, it’s that I have a knack for devious revenge plans, just saying.”

Patrick threw his head back and laughed, because the thought of David as an evil genius was droll. “Then I’ll have to make sure to never invoke your wrath, huh?”

David’s eyes, as they met his, were warm, and he was smiling that half-smile that always made Patrick’s heart go pitter-patter. “I’m sure you’ll do your best.”

There was more truth in that than teasing, and for the first time since this all began, Patrick was able to relax. “I think there’s more than one thing you’ve learned from your past,” he murmured, stealing another quick kiss. 

It was true. Whatever shit David had gone through, it had made him the man he was today, and as much as he’d wished to take all that pain away, he couldn’t help but be grateful for that. He'd take David as he was any day, shitty past and all.


End file.
